


Kitty Cowlick's Jaded Adulthood

by IronicSnap



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Gen, Journalism, Mid-Canon, here is my take on two of them, this movie is full of background characters who fascinate me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24660715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronicSnap/pseuds/IronicSnap
Summary: After the ZPD’s first rabbit officer gives a truly disastrous press conference, feline journalists Katherine and Anna need a moment to regroup.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	Kitty Cowlick's Jaded Adulthood

  
Katherine Cougric (R), pictured alongside her photographer Anna (L)

* * *

“I don’t goddamn believe this.”

Anna gave Katherine one of those little cringes she sometimes did. “You’re swearing again.”

“We’ve been over this. ‘Goddamn’ doesn’t count as a swearword. Gimme a minute to ramp up, I’ll show you some swearwords…”

The two women stood in the shadow of ZPD headquarters. Most of the journalists had already dispersed - to their news vans, if they were big enough for news vans, and back to their sad, tiny apartments if they weren’t. But Katherine needed a minute. The cougar straightened her pink shirt, a touch violently.

Anna - good old Anna, dependable Anna, the tigress who had always turned in such consistent photography work for Katherine and stood alongside her even at her lowest moments, meaning Katherine had every reason to be patient with her - did another of those goddamn little cringes.

Katherine sighed. “I mean… you heard that too.”

“I did.”

“You heard what that rabbit said.”

“Yes.”

“And you heard the sad, shaky way she said it. But it’s out there now. And we gotta go back to ZNN and report it and comment on it. _Objectively_.”

“If it helps,” said Anna, in her soft little voice, “I don’t think she really meant it.”

“Then she shouldn’t have said it to the national press!”

Katherine rubbed her face with both paws.

“This is fine,” she said, unconvincingly. “I’m fine. I’m a professional. I just need a minute, and then we will go back and report on this. Professionally.”

It felt cold - cold enough for Anna to feel a little chilly in her sleeveless black dress - but the sun was a lot more distant than it had been this morning. After a moment, she drew closer. “You look… worried.”

“Do I?”

“You don’t usually look worried.”

Katherine let out a breath slowly. “I guess,” she said, “this is pretty worrying.”

She paced, gesturing with one paw.

“I mean, let’s think this through for a second. _Someone_ has to. The rabbit clearly didn’t, and neither did whatever idiot let her do an unscripted interview.”

“It seemed like the Assistant- well… Interim Mayor’s idea?”

“Then we better elect a new mayor.” Katherine’s brown eyes were sharper than usual, which was saying something. “As I was saying - we don’t know what’s causing this crisis, and it _is_ a crisis. It’s a miracle that no-one’s been hurt yet…”

“That we know of,” mumbled Anna.

“That we _know_ of, excellent point. This is a huge public health issue, and it would be even if ten percent of us _didn’t_ have knives for teeth. Imagine being a rhino and you lose control near Little Rodentia. A problem this serious needs immediate solutions, and the only way to do that is to unify everyone. So what does she do?”

Anna was used to this rhythm. Although it had been a while since she had seen Katherine this angry. “She-”

“She makes it about predators! Yes! Obvious…” She sighed again, more sharply, then waved a paw between the two of them. “Obvious bias aside…”

“I think,” said Anna, her voice the most firm it had sounded since they had left the building, “you should acknowledge your feelings.”

“Alright. I will. As a predator, I’m obviously insulted. But as a journalist, I’m even angrier! This is going to _ruin_ the story. What we need to be selling to the public is, y’know, ‘Mysterious Sickness in Zootopia, Full Investigation Needed’. Instead, we’ve been saddled with ‘Idiot Says Idiot Things; Does She Have A Point? We Ask Nine Prey and One Predator’. A problem this serious, dragged into dumb, old - **agh!”**

Anna fidgeted with her camera lens, her large fingers moving delicately. “Are you saying we should reframe the story?”

“We can try to drag it in the right direction. But even if we do, it’s pointless. Every other publication will latch on to the pred thing. Especially the trashy ones.”

They both lapsed into silence. Katherine caught sight of someone else stalking out of ZPD headquarters, sizing him up with her practiced journalistic eye. Red fox, male, probably thirties. Absolutely horrendous shirt. His eyes were very firmly on the ground, but he weaved through larger mammals with an angry efficiency. Putting as much distance between himself and the building as possible.

“See, that’s what I mean.”

“Um,” said Anna, “what?”

Katherine nodded to the fox, and Anna managed to get a brief glimpse of him before he disappeared behind an elephant. He didn’t re-emerge. “That guy. Being told I’m some kind of ticking time-bomb is an insult, obviously. But I’m not worried about us. You and I, we’ve got a good employer, we know how to handle ourselves, and worst comes to worst, big cats are fairly high on the food chain. If a savage otter started mauling your ankles, you’d be fine.”

“I’d be very scared.”

“I’m not saying you wouldn’t be. But how much more afraid would you be if you were a tiny little fennec fox?” Katherine scoffed. “That’s who I really feel sorry for right now. We’ve all been marred by that dumb half-baked ‘science’, but it’s not like all predators are in the same boat. The smaller ones, the ones a polar bear could squish with one paw? They’ll have to deal with the ignorance we’re gonna face _and_ the fear the preys are feeling. Worst of both worlds.”

“Yeah,” said Anna. “That’s terrible.”

After a moment, she offered a timid smile.

“Can I say something?”

“Uh, sure.”

“I think it’s very good of you that you’re so concerned about other people. A lot of mammals will just be thinking of themselves.”

“Understandable,” grunted Katherine, “even if that’s probably gonna make things worse. I dunno. I think it’s just… I feel like how bad this is gonna be, for everybody, and I’m caught on that. It makes me angry. You might be giving me a bit too much credit.”

“Not at all. You’re angry because you care. It’s a good thing.”

Katherine returned her smile, though it was humourless. “If you say so.”

They stood there for a second, in the huge shadow of police headquarters, before Katherine cleared her throat. 

“I guess we should get back to-”

“Hey.”

A new voice. Deep and male and monotone. Katherine turned, her ears back instinctively. A sheep. Red shirt straining against his thick white wool. Indeterminate age. Katherine always had trouble sizing up sheep. Those square eyes were unknowable.

“You two are ZNN, right?” he said. Dour and precise.

“Yes,” said Katherine, crisply.

“What are you standing around for? This is a big story. Gotta get it out fast as possible.”

She scoffed. “Yeah. Sure. You fresh out of school or something? Reporting quickly isn’t much of a virtue in situations like this. Preliminary reports have already hit the web. Our job now is to report on this _right_.”

“Sure,” he said. “And what does that look like, exactly?”

Anna waited a moment for Katherine to answer, but she had lapsed into a sudden silence. Hastily, Anna filled the gap. “We’re, um, working that out. But we’ll be doing our best.”

He nodded. “Right. Well, be careful out there. Doesn’t seem like a good time to be a pred. Maybe you should-”

“I recognise you.”

Just as abruptly as she had gone quiet, Katherine spoke again. The sheep, who had begun to drift away, returned her gaze. The full attention of those square pupils on her.

“You asked the rabbit if predators were the only ones going savage.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“That was a pretty leading question.”

“Maybe,” he said, but his voice was too calm for it to sound like any kind of concession. “But it’s true. They are. And the public should know.”

“It was tactless. And it soured the rest of the conference. We would’ve gotten better information if you hadn’t sent things spiralling in that direction.”

“What, like it’s my fault?” She was expecting anger, but his tone was still steady. It was a little unnerving. “I asked a question that needed asking. If the bunny answered weird, that’s her problem, not mine.”

Katherine didn’t reply immediately. When she did, her voice was sharper. “What agency you with?”

“I got this Channel Nine microphone in my hand. That would seem to imply Channel Nine, wouldn’t it?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know any rams who do on-site reporting for Channel Nine.” 

“What? You know everybody? That’s absurd.”

Anna’s eyes were bouncing between them for this entire exchange. She wasn’t entirely sure where Katherine was coming from. But she didn’t doubt her instincts.

But there was an opening, and before Katherine could press on the sheep seized it instead. “Come to think of it, I think I actually recognize you.”

“No,” said Katherine, too quickly. “You don’t.”

“No, I do. Didn’t realize you were still in the business. You’re whatshername - yeah. Kitty Cowlick.”

Anna cringed. There was nothing little about this one.

“My name,” said Katherine, with icy, perfect diction, “is Katherine Cougric.”

“I mean, sure,” he said. “You’re not fourteen any more. They really let you stay on after you won that kid reporter contest… thing…? Wow. That’s hilarious.”

Katherine took a deep breath.

Anna knew what that breath would fuel. She had heard this story too many times, because Katherine had been made to explain it too many times. How ‘Kitty Cowlick’ was a dumb name, yes, but it wasn’t Katherine’s name, and wasn’t even Katherine’s idea, but the idea of some sweaty, overly-smiley executive who had been on set on her first day. How Kitty Cowlick, for her dumb name, hadn’t been a dumb kid, turning in as good a job as a legal minor could be expected to perform over her week of screentime. How Katherine had later earned a full degree in journalism and now had a record that spoke for itself.

And there were other things that only people like Anna knew. The disrespect Katherine had endured during what was supposed to have been a fun little contest prize. The extent to which her classmates had ‘joked’ about it once she returned to school - very funny, very necessary jokes, told with fangs out. And how, above all else, the smiling spectre of Kitty Cowlick haunted Katherine Cougric to this day. 

But none of that came out. Instead, that deep breath emerged from between Katherine’s pointed teeth as a pointed sigh. 

“Try to focus on the here and now,” she said, her voice clipped and crisp. “Otherwise you might get in _trouble_ with Channel Nine.”

“Eh,” he said.

And apparently that was all he needed to say. He turned and left, angling toward a fresh wave of journalists leaving the building. Disappearing into the crowd. They watched him go.

Anna’s frown had a few new wobbles to it. “That guy gave off really bad vibes.”

“I’ll say.”

“I mean, he definitely only brought up… that… because he knew he was losing the argument. Don’t worry about him, Katherine, he’s not worth your time.”

“On the contrary.”

Those sharp brown eyes turned back to Anna.

“I was getting a much worse reading from him than just a run-of-the-mill jerk. I mean it, Anna. I don’t know any journalists matching his description. And he just shows up and makes a bad situation worse? That’s…”

“That’s what?”

“I don’t know,” said Katherine finally. Another face Anna knew well. Like she had something stuck in her teeth. 

After a moment, Anna popped the lens off her camera. It was easier to have something else to look at. “Um, don’t take this the wrong way…”

“Never a promising start to a sentence,” said Katherine flatly.

“…but I really don’t know what you’re talking about?”

Katherine’s ear flicked with irritation. “You know the really annoying thing?” she said. “I don’t know what I’m talking about either.”

She looked out over the crowd - the mammals leaving ZPD headquarters, and beyond them, the usual throng of Zootopia’s central plaza. No sign of the sheep now, or that fox. Just two more passing faces in a city of millions.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” she said. “I think there’s more going on here than we know. But…”

She folded her arms tightly.

“That’s redundant. Of course this feels bad. Of course we don’t know everything. It feels pointless saying that kind of thing at a time like this.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for being off-balance,” said Anna, her voice quiet again. “I’m sure everyone is, after getting news like that.”

“But at times like this I _need_ to be at my best. I don’t want to make excuses, Anna.”

“You’re not making excuses,” said Anna patiently. “If anything, it’s important to be aware of your feelings.”

“My feelings that say we’re all screwed, and that guy was acting in bad faith in a way I can’t put my finger on?”

“Yes.”

“Feh.”

Katherine rolled her shoulders, trying to draw herself back to her full height.

“We’ve wasted enough time,” she said. “You’re probably right. I shouldn’t waste time coming up with conspiracy theories about some jerk I ran into. Like you said, he’s not worth my time.” Her voice was grim. “We have bigger things to worry about.”

“Yeah…”

“So come on. We’ll go back, run this all by Mister Lagopus, and… see what happens, I guess.” 

She began to walk away. Anna, as ever, dutifully fell into step beside her. “You don’t have to write it up, you know,” she said. “I’m sure he’d be fine with assigning someone else to do it, if you want to call it a day.”

“I do want to call it a day,” said Katherine. “But I’m not going to. We were there. We heard what was said, firsthand. I can handle the writeup. And besides…”

She met Anna’s gaze, eyes firm.

“Things are just gonna get worse from here,” she said. “And it’s our duty to look straight at them and report them exactly as they are.”

“You’re right.” Anna managed a weak smile. “You always are.”

“I’m not, trust me. I just do my best.”

They walked in silence for a few more moments. Anna’s voice was so sudden she even startled herself. “Doyouwanttogetdinner?”

“What was that?”

Anna cleared her throat. She strongly considered denying she had said anything, but Katherine was much too sharp for that. “I was wondering, just… we’re both a bit depressed after that, but you still want to work on this, which is cool, so instead, how about, um…”

“I think I caught the word ‘dinner’?”

“Um, yes.” Anna’s ears were pinned down. Full fight-or-flight response. Flight, obviously. “ _Ifyouwant_.”

Katherine thought it over. A passing moment for her, an eternity for Anna. “Alright,” she said finally. “I get what you’re saying. It’d be nice to have something else to look forward to. End the day on a less awful note.”

Relief flooded through Anna. “Yes. Yes, exactly.”

“No phones, no internet. No work talk. You know anywhere good?”

“There’s one or two places I think you’d like.”

“Excellent.”

Katherine laid a paw on Anna’s shoulder. 

“Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate you thinking of me like this. I probably don’t say this enough, but… you’re a good partner.”

Anna smiled. It was much less wobbly than her frowns. “I, uh, just do my best.”

“Good.”

They walked together through the plaza. The ZPD building behind them. ZNN a few blocks ahead. And millions of mammals around them, soon to be plunged into some of the darkest months in the city’s history.

“You’ll need to.”

**Author's Note:**

> https://zootopia.fandom.com/wiki/Kitty_Cowlick


End file.
